Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Roz had not timed her exit from her mother’s building well, and even with the help of the beach towel she kept in her car, she knew she looked like a drenched dog when she walked into the busy Doppler Diner. Her black pants were lightweight and drying, but her sage shirt still felt heavy and damp.
Alden’s face lit up when he saw her. He stood until she sat in the booth, which had a nice view of the inlet through the big windows.
She didn’t know if his smile meant he was laughing or really happy to see her.
Or both, which would be fine. And he did look fine in his dark jeans and collared short-sleeved gray shirt. The man had very nice arms.
“You could’ve gone the extra step and just put on your bathing suit,” he said.
Laughing at her then. Or maybe with her. “Ha ha. I got caught in the rain.”
“Either that or keel-hauled through the inlet. I like you like this. Very mermaid.”
Her long, reddish-brown hair was wavier when wet but also frizzier. Whatever. She’d deal with it later.
After a brief perusal of the menu, they ordered their go-tos—a hamburger for him, a Reuben for her.
This place was classic diner all the way, from the chrome-heavy decor to the counter with barstools to the menu to the vintage jukebox.
She loved the vibe. But the food probably wasn’t great for her cholesterol.
“Maybe we should try something healthier. Like that Virgo Veggieverse place in town,” she suggested as he sipped his coffee and she her iced tea.
Alden raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think they’re trying a little too hard with the name?”
“I’ve seen the menu. It’s definitely a veggie-verse.”
“No meat at all?”
“Fake meat.”
“Ew.” He made a face that made her laugh. “And virginal, apparently.”
“Virgo, not virginal. Alluding to the constellation, maybe? But I get your point.”
“It’s pure. Unlike that beautiful burger I’m about to eat. So did Duke get back to you?”
“Oh, crap.” She dug into her slightly damp bag and pulled out her phone.
“Nope.” She shot off another message. He wasn’t ignoring her, was he?
She put the phone on the table so she could keep an eye on it.
“I talked to my mom, though.” She explained about the permits for construction of a movie studio at a warehouse complex by the airport and her mom’s suggestion the Esquivels might own the land.
“So one of them could be Wayne’s partner in building the movie studio?”
“That’s what I’m hoping to find out this afternoon. Do you have anything?”
“Only that Wayne Vandershell started out as a sad unwanted screenwriter and tech-crew guy who somehow became a movie producer.”
She cocked her head. “Well, that’s good color, anyway. Good human interest.”
“Maybe, but what puzzles me is how he turned his life around. I talked to a friend in the biz. Said he’d never heard of Vandershell’s movies either.”
“Is that weird?”
“Maybe not if they were small and they were retitled or something when they got picked up.”
They both looked up as their server, a young woman in stretchy black pants and a pink blouse and fifties-style scarf, dropped off plates full of mains and fries. “Anything else?” she asked.
“This looks fabulous,” Roz declared, and the server headed off.
Alden didn’t hesitate. He took a giant bite of his burger, and a bit of juice dribbled onto his chin. He wiped it away with a napkin before she thought too much about licking it off.
She picked up half of her sandwich and had a bite. Sooo good — savory warm corned beef and Swiss all melty together on rye, tangy with sauerkraut and Russian dressing. “So where does this leave us? We need to produce some kind of story today.”
“I think we need a comment from the police, even if it’s no comment, so we can get a story up,” Alden said. “But looking toward print, maybe we can get more from Enolia Honeywood about her connection to the man.”
“I just want to know more about her in general. She’s mastered the skill of appearing to be open and forthright while being completely cagey.”
“I had the same thought,” he said. “I wanted to see her office so badly.”
“Do you think she’s hiding secrets in there?”
“I doubt it, but maybe it reflects more of her interior life. No way it’s as boring as her living room is.”
Roz chuckled and finished off a fry. “I thought it was very tasteful.”
Alden made a theatrical snoring sound and dipped a fry in ketchup before scarfing it down. “Mmm. What do they fry these in?”
“Crack?” Roz ate another one. “I think you should call Enolia back. She has to know something about Wayne’s business dealings if he was going to make her book into a film.”
“Are the photos you took of her on your laptop? I never got to see them.”
“Sure. Hang on a sec.” She took another bite of the delicious Reuben. Then she set it down, wiped her hands on a napkin and dug into her bag again. This time she pulled out the computer.
“How much stuff is in that bag?” Alden sipped his coffee.
“Laptop, camera, personal items, a puppy, a small bicycle,” she said, cranking up the laptop on the table. In a moment, she’d pulled up the gallery of photos from their interview Saturday afternoon and angled the screen so he could take a look.
“When did you have time to work on these?”
“After I left your place yesterday.”
He smiled. “You could’ve stayed over again.”
“I have to sleep sometime.”
He chuckled and focused on her screen and the rows of thumbnails. “These are great. Oh, look at that one. Love her expression. Hey—can you zoom in on this one?”
She double-clicked to open the photo. “Not one of my better efforts. She’s not even in focus. My camera kept trying to focus on the shelves.”
“Hush. Your photos are perfect. I love the soft focus behind her in the other pictures. But I’m not interested in Enolia right now. Look at the shelves behind her.”
She stopped fretting about Enolia being blurry and scanned the shelves, crisply in focus with their books, knickknacks and framed pictures. Then realization dawned. “The photos?”
“They may not tell us anything about Wayne Vandershell, but they might tell us something about her. Can you zoom in?” Alden asked.
“You’re so sneaky. I love it.” She zoomed in so they could look at the snapshots. One showed Enolia as a younger woman with two kids, a girl and a boy. “Does she have kids?”
“Not that I know of. So who are these two?”
“Niece? Nephew? Does she have siblings who have kids?”
Alden pulled out his phone and made a note. “I’ll check. What else you got?”
Roz moved the image around on the screen. “Oh, wow. Is this who I think it is?”
Posing with Enolia at what looked like a book signing—complete with banners, a table filled with novels, and bookstore shelves behind her—was a handsome, dark-haired man with brilliant white teeth. Both of them were all smiles, both holding glasses of champagne.
“That’s Vandershell.” Alden’s voice held a note of excitement. “This looks cozy. How close were they? I mean, they’re at a book signing, obviously. So it’s not exactly a boudoir shot.”
“They were business partners if he was making her movie. But who puts a photo of their business partner on display in their living room?”
“Well, it’s not in the bedroom,” Alden pointed out. “Maybe she just liked the way she looks in the photo—happy, pretty and successful.”
“And posing with arm candy that makes her look even more enviable.”
“You think he’s arm candy?” Alden’s tease had the tiniest hint of jealousy.
“Not anymore! Is she that vain?” Roz thought about Enolia and her meticulous house and clothes and face. “Yeah, maybe she is. But I think there’s more going on there.”
“I’ll try to ask her delicately.” He made another note on his phone. “Any other pictures in the shot?”
Roz moved the photo around the screen some more. “Not here. Let’s see if I got a different one with a focus fail.”
Alden chuckled and worked on finishing off his burger. She took another bite of her sandwich and scrolled some more before she found a wider shot in which the novelist was blurry and the shelves weren’t.
“Here you go,” she said, zooming in until the picture was almost pixelated, sliding the image around to examine every shelf. “Here’s one more. Oh my God.”
Alden looked up from the fry he was pushing around in his ketchup and popped it in his mouth. “What?”
“She’s at the beach in this one. Maybe even on her deck. And she’s posing with someone we know.” The women had their arms around each other, and both were smiling.
“Is that Mae from the bookstore?” Alden’s eyes widened. “What’s going on there?”
“Friends? Family? I know what you’re thinking, but Mae has had a string of short-term and slightly odd boyfriends. She likes guys. I’ve never known her to cross the road, so to speak. Plus there’s a significant age difference.”
Alden shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Mae obviously knows Enolia pretty well, well enough to make the cut of the living room bookshelf. Whether she’s friend or family, that would explain how our little bookstore landed Enolia Honeywood, beyond the fact she’s a part-time resident of Comet Cove.”
“Right. Mae had an inside connection. So Mae would know more about her, too.”
“We should talk to Mae and get a quote for our Wayne Vandershell follow-up anyway,” he said. “Her reaction and that sort of thing.”
Roz nodded and spoke around a french fry. “In lieu of facts, color. Though I’d prefer facts.”
“You always do.” Alden’s eyes twinkled. “That’s why we make such good partners.”
Roz smiled back at him. And then her phone pinged.
She looked down at the screen. “It’s Duke. Maybe we can get some facts after all.”